No one tattooed rules onto your cheeks; but the dove

drawn out of love flutters on my back from time to time.

Occasionally opulent; wounded and well worn. I don't

think much about it anymore. I just keep driving, singing

along to those songs that made no sense at the time, songs

that I "get" now. Stop and Go. Red light. Theater Tickets. Rent

money. Gas sticker price. I've got enough faith still to put my

hands on you and tingle with hopefulness. I'm still young

enough to say that I'll never forget the ocher light buzzing

above us the first time. The first taste. Nothing put to shame

or waste. just. you. and. me. Naked fluorescent foreplay.

Purple sky as I wake up - listen to the electricity crawl

up the walls, - t h i c k e n - and burrow deeper under the blankets

before I smell shampoo and coffee. Lickety split litany.

Freeze - frame - I can't help but smile sometimes. Just the

thought of simplicity dancing exposed and unabashed on my hand

makes me cry out in pleasure. The myth uncalculated. Who knows?

Sleep after a long leap (of faith!) Toy around with the idea of summer

and see that there really was so much there (underneath the sun burning,

I need to learn to look past the yellow heat and linger) Washington

girl without the rain is a fish out of water - girls sipping tea with the mad

hatter - Its never been a choice between the former or the latter:

(just the here and now) - It's the first hour of today, and I smile.